


Love Emergency

by orangina



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Crack, FC Bayern München, Fluff, M/M, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-10 01:32:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5563675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangina/pseuds/orangina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas has a date tonight, but in classic Thomas fashion, ends up in the emergency room instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One.

**Author's Note:**

> Repost from about two months ago. I didn't like the corny texts at the end and thought about rewriting it, but ended up just taking the whole thing out so this is the exact same thing as before - without the ending and a new title.
> 
> And of course, this was a gift for McKinley.

If someone ever required the definition of ‘pull a Thomas Müller’, you might want to tell them the following:

 

> _**pull a Thomas Müller (verb):** to become so excited about your date that you fall down the stairs and break your arm as a result of excessive jumping around like an idiot_

 

That’s the first thing that went through Thomas’ head after he had landed at the bottom of the staircase. He didn’t think he’d hit his head, no, he definitely hadn’t. He forced himself to laugh feebly at his own joke, but stopped immediately when the pain began searing through his elbow.

This was not looking good. It wasn’t looking good at all.

“Thomas!” Robert exclaimed as he caught sight of his housemate tangled up on the floor. Though this was not a particularly unusual sight, Thomas did look pretty dazed, so Robert figured that this was not one of those incidents to simply roll his eyes at and ignore.

“I fell down the stairs,” Thomas informed him.

“Oh dear. Think you broke anything?” Robert asked, bending over habitually to help the poor man to his feet. He got his answer when Thomas yelped as Robert tried to pull him up by his arms. “Shit! Sorry!”

Thomas moaned and swayed around a bit. His face was turning very gray very fast.

“That’s it. I’m taking you to the emergency room. Wait here a minute while I get my things and then we’ll get in the car.”

Thomas wanted to protest. He wanted to say, _but I have to start getting ready for a date with Manuel Neuer in an hour and taking a detour to the emergency room might, you know, put things on hold for a bit._

But for once in his life, Thomas didn’t say anything. He was in too much pain.

 

* * *

 

Robert rubbed Thomas’ back good-naturedly as they waited to be called. They’d given him a gauze to stop the bleeding, which Thomas pressed onto his arm, and a sling to keep everything in place.

This was the absolute worst. He’d managed to break his arm approximately three hours before his date with the hottest man on earth. What was Manuel going to think of him now? He’d flirted with the blond man for _years_ before finally landing himself a date, and now that was all ruined thanks to Thomas’ good old alter ego Sir Clums-a-lot.

He felt like breaking his other arm. That would serve two purposes: 1) teaching himself a lesson once and for all, and 2) balancing out the pain with the other arm so maybe his brain would be tricked into thinking it didn’t hurt as much.

“Stop that,” Robert muttered, laying his arm across Thomas’ chest. Apparently, he really _had_ been trying to break his other arm.

This was getting worse and worse by the minute. He could only imagine the headlines tomorrow:

 

> **LOVE TURNS LOOSE: Thomas Müller of Bayern Munich out for 12 Weeks After Tumultuous Tumble**
> 
> An unfortunate incident occurred yesterday when Thomas Müller, 26 years old, 1.86 meters, and 74 kilograms, broke not only his arm when he took a spill down the stairs. He also broke his heart.

 

* * *

 

Eventually, someone came and gave Thomas a shot to numb his arm so he’d stop hurting so much, and amazingly, it worked. Now he just felt tired. And foolish. Basically, he felt exactly like how you’d expect someone who had fallen down the stairs because they were way too excited about their date and broken their arm, hence cancelling said date, to feel.

Once a room finally opened up for Thomas, Robert stopped rubbing his back and stood up.

“I’m gonna head home now,” he said, sounding a little sorry but hanging out in the emergency room was not exactly his idea of fun on a Friday night. “Call me if you need anything, though, alright?”

“Sure,” Thomas replied bleakly. This was going to be a great evening for sure.

He was wheeled into the room and a nurse, who introduced herself as Lisa, helped him to climb in bed and pulled the sheet around him, after which she disappeared and Thomas was left alone for quite some time. Clearly, Lisa and the doctors had more important matters to tend to than Thomas and his silly date.

He sighed.

There are long days, and then there are those days where you just end up in the emergency room because life.

“Can you hand me my phone?” Thomas asked Lisa as soon as she came around again.

“Here you go,” she replied with a smile. Thomas extracted the object from her hand with his good arm.

“Anything else you need? Food or drink? Another blanket?” Lisa said sweetly.

“No, thank you,” Thomas grumbled.

“Let me know if I can get anything for you. I’m really sorry for the wait, it’s been really busy in here today,” Lisa apologized, sounding sincere enough for Thomas to feel guilty about being so crabby.

“How long will it be?” Thomas asked, making an effort to keep the irritation out of his voice.

“You’re next. There’s only one patient ahead of you and the doctor’s with them right now,” Lisa told him.

Meaning: _It could be hours, I don’t know._

Thomas suppressed the groan that formed in his throat and thanked Lisa, expecting her to be on her merry way. Unfortunately for Thomas, the intention of her visit had not been to just chit-chat, but to take a sample of his blood for fuck knows why. Lisa was patient and gentle, however, so Thomas decided to make it easy on her and act like a 26-year-old while he was having the life sucked from him.

 

* * *

 

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Thomas. Müller. Your date, I mean.”

“Oh, hey Thomas. All’s good?”

“Yes, everything is fine. I’m just calling, to, um, cancel our date because I’m kind of in the emergency room? But everything’s just dandy.”

“Um,” Manuel said intelligently. “You’re where?”

“The emergency room. So I just wanted to let you know that, you know, I don’t think I’ll be joining you tonight. On the date, I mean. I can’t go on our date.”

“Thomas! Why on earth are you in the emergency room?” Manuel exclaimed.

“Broke my arm,” Thomas said.

“Oh, Thomas … what happened?”

“That’s classified information.”

Manuel sighed. “I’m coming to see you.”

“No you’re not.”

“Why?”

“Because I kinda wanted our first date to be somewhere outside the hospital setting, you see,” Thomas explained.

“Okay. Listen. Let’s push back our first date, but I really wanna make sure you’re okay because I’m worried about you. Please?”

“Well … okay. If that’s what you _really_ want, I guess you can come visit me …”

“Great! Be there in about half an hour, is that okay?”

“Time is meaningless to me. I’ve lost all sense of dimension and orientation in space. I’m in a white room and I cannot tell ceiling from wall, left from right, right from wrong. My voice only exists in the context of this phone call,” Thomas confirmed.

“You’re a nutcase. See you soon.”

And then the call ended.

 

* * *

 

24 minutes later, Thomas’ phone rang and he answered it.

“Yes?”

“I need your visitor’s code. It’s the last four digits on your I.D. band.”

“Uh, okay. Give me moment.” Thomas shuffled himself about awkwardly so he could read the the identification number on his wrist. “Okay. So it’s six-oh-three-two. Got that?”

“Six-oh-three-two,” Manuel repeated to the lady behind the counter.

“Six-oh-three-two,” Thomas agreed.

 

* * *

 

Thomas was in no shape or form to be seeing his date right now. He looked and felt disgusting, his hair was sticking to his forehead, he had been perspiring earlier but now he was freezing cold in his fugly hospital gown, whose history and previous whereabouts Thomas tried very hard to push from his mind. Seriously, who was responsible for the design of these things, and more importantly, _who_ thought it would be a good idea to make them washable and reusable? That was just begging for a lawsuit to happen, in Thomas’ humble opinion.

And when Manuel strolled into the room still clad in his outfit intended for the date, his hair short and neat, Thomas felt even worse. He tried to sit up to make himself at least a little more presentable, but that only resulted in him wincing and falling back onto his crusty hospital pillow.

“Easy now,” Manuel warned with a raised eyebrow. He sat down in the plastic chair in the corner of the room.

Thomas pouted.

“How are you feeling?” Manuel asked gently.

“Shitty,” Thomas answered.

Manuel nodded sympathetically. “I know. I wish I could make you feel better. I’d trade places with you if I could.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Thomas didn’t know what Manuel had expected from him, but he was in no mood to entertain right now. He just wanted to sleep, to be honest.

Manuel looked at his watch, remarking, “they’re taking a while.”

“Yeah. Probably getting ready for all the alcohol poisoning coming in later tonight,” Thomas said bitterly.

Another moment of silence ensued. Thomas’ chattiness was well known and usually made up for Manuel’s shyness, but right now Manuel’s shyness seemed like the loudest thing in the room. His cheeks blushed. He wished he could do something other than just sitting here uselessly, waiting for Thomas to make a comment or ask a favor.

Meanwhile, it seemed that Thomas’ shot was wearing off because dull waves of pain kept shooting through his arm. Most of them were only small annoyances, but finally, one came that was so bad that he cried out and squeezed his eyes shut.

“What’s the matter?” Manuel’s eyes were wide and worried.

Thomas just sobbed a little. It was gone, but he was so afraid that it would come again, and the anticipation was even worse than the pain.

“Hey,” Manuel said mildly. He took the chair and dragged it across the floor to sit next to Thomas. He found Thomas’ good hand and took it between his own, grimacing when he felt how cold it was. He used his other hand to push back the hair from Thomas’ forehead.

“I can leave, if you want to sleep?”

“Nah,” Thomas said quietly, his eyes still closed but they weren’t screwed shut in pain anymore.

“Okay.” Manuel stopped smoothing Thomas’ hair and wrapped both his hands around Thomas’ one.

Thomas’ eyes were opening now. He looked up at Manuel, his date, pleadingly. “Stay with me even if I fall asleep?”

“Of course I will.”

So Thomas’ eyes fluttered shut again, the agitation left his face, and his breathing turned slow and steady, his chest rising up and down beneath the sheet and his broken arm arranged carefully beside him. Eventually, the nurse Lisa came back in to tell Manuel that the doctor was on the way to tend to Thomas, so he let go of Thomas’ hand and made sure his sheet and pillow were arranged nicely about him before he left.


	2. Two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two! This chapter is more Lewy/Thomas than Neuller but you'll see why hehe.
> 
> Not yet edited because I'm lazy but mostly because I just wanted to get this up...ignore all the stupid typos, I'll go through it sooner or later.
> 
> (Update: I went through it but probably did a terrible job. So, continue to ignore all the stupid typos)

“Hey, bro. What’s going on?”

“I need you to come pick me up,” Thomas slurred into the phone. He had had surgery last night in order to have the bones in his arm held in place with pins and, as a result, coherence was not currently his strong suit.

Despite his grogginess, he could practically hear Robert roll his eyes over the line. Given the current state of his roommate, however, Robert wouldn’t dare correct his manners.

“Okay. Lemme throw some clothes on and I’ll be right over.”

“Thank you. And get here as fast as you can,” Thomas gargled.

“Mhm. Try to get all your barf out before you get into my car, kay?”

Thomas made an indistinguishable noise before hanging up. Thank god. As soon as Robert came, he wouldn’t need to spend another ten minutes in this damned post-op room. Sure, it was furnished more thoughtfully than the cell he’d been stuck in at the emergency department, but it was still pretty depressing.

Thomas couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this un-Thomas-like. He couldn’t remember anything that had happened between the time he’d been put to sleep last night and the time he’d woken up, and he wasn’t even sure when or how he had woken up. All he was certain of right now was the fact that he had to puke, and very badly at that. He felt gross and drowsy and miserable and all he wanted to do was be unconscious in his _own_ bed.

 

* * *

 

As soon as Robert and Thomas made it successfully into the house and Thomas had successfully placed himself on the sofa (he’d had to settle for the sofa as he would’ve had to go upstairs to get in his bed, and seeing as the last time he’d been upstairs he’d ended up under general anesthesia, he didn’t really fancy making the trek right now), Robert slapped the newspaper onto the coffee table and began to read it aloud.

“ _Lovestruck Bayern Star Falls a Little Too Hard for Teammate - Fumbles and Breaks Bone in Home Accident,_ ” Robert announced.

“Please tell me that this is a joke.”

“I’m just reading what it says,” Robert shrugged.

“That,” Thomas said, “is literally even worse than I thought it would be. And I think I’m gonna throw up, so move the bucket closer to me, please.”

Robert grabbed the bucket in a panic and shoved it under Thomas’ nose. Thomas retched, and the vomit hit the bottom of the plastic bucket seconds later. Robert grimaced, but yanked the bucket of sick away to go empty it like any good housemate would do.

Thomas felt much better now that his stomach had sorted itself out. He was able to relax into the couch and felt mildly comfortable for the first time since before he’d broken his arm. There was a muted pain beneath all the thick bandages, but it was fairly consistent and a negligible vexation.

“Feeling any better now?”

Robert had returned. He threw a fleece blanket over Thomas and placed a glass of water where Thomas could reach it.

“Fuck yes,” Thomas said emphatically. “That felt better than sex.”

“O-kay,” Robert replied with a raised eyebrow. “I’m just gonna head off to training now.”

“Right. Have fun. And tell Pep that I can’t make it today.”

_No shit._

Robert ruffled Thomas’ hair affectionately, earning himself a catlike grin from the latter. “Will do. Take care of yourself, you stupid goofball. I think your mom was gonna stop by soon, but call any of us if you need anything. I’m serious. If I find that you pissed yourself or, I don’t know, are cold and need an extra blanket or something, I’ll skip training and babysit for as long as I have to -”

“Bye,” Thomas said.

“Later,” Robert chirped before slipping out the door and shutting it behind him.

As soon as Robert was gone and the house was quiet, dejection settled in Thomas’ chest once more. It was slowly starting to occur to him that he was going to be out for at least several weeks. And even after he began training again, he would be confined to the bench during games and would be missing out on the thing he loved and lived for. He tried to console himself by reminding himself that it could’ve been worse - at least it was only his arm and not his leg or foot. Still, the prospect of the next week or so seemed infinite and gloomy.

Thomas began to tremble. He tried to contain his body heat in the blanket, but it was too thin and no use, so he gave up and allowed a sip of water to distract himself. He only needed to last until his mom made it over…

 _I want Manu,_ Thomas thought sadly.

 

**~a week or so later~**

 

A week or so later, Thomas had made significant progress in his gradual transformation back to Thomas Müller, much to the annoyance and dismay of Robert because Thomas Müller With A Broken Arm was about ten thousand times more annoying than just plain old Thomas Müller. There was far more banging, crashing, spillages, and the like than usual (which was already a lot). And since Thomas still wasn’t in a hard cast, he wasn’t permitted to train again yet. Needless to say, he had become bored and restless.

“Thomas!” Robert groaned after the latest loud noise before he even knew what had happened.

“Dammit!” he heard Thomas shout from the kitchen.

Robert rubbed his lips together before going to investigate. He approached cautiously, and when he stepped in, wasn’t all that surprised to see a majority of the freezer’s contents on the floor and Thomas on his knees, sifting through them. He looked so pathetic yet so helpless, his hair still uncombed and his shirt the same one from three days ago (though Robert couldn’t blame him on that one; taking a shower when your bandages aren’t waterproof is quite the hassle).

The older man squeezed his eyes shut gratefully, feeling his chest expand to its full capacity again. It could’ve been much, much worse.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw that Thomas’ mouth was unhinged and ready to go, his eyebrows already halfway up his forehead, so Robert held his hand up and shook his head.

“I don’t want to hear it. Let’s just clean this up and then I’ll get you whatever the hell it is that you needed.”

“I’m sorry,” Thomas pouted.

“It’s okay, Thomas,” Robert said as he bent over to scoop up as many frozen pizzas as he could.

Thomas remained on the floor, handing his housemate things to put back in the freezer until all that was left was a package of frozen peas. “Aha,” he stated triumphantly.

Thomas lay down on the floor and slung the package over his arm, letting out an enormous sigh as soon as the cold started to work its magic and relieve the itch that he couldn’t scratch.

“There ya go. Now can I trust you to not burn the house down while I’m at training?”

“Wait,” Thomas pleaded. “Can I come?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because … just, no.”

Thomas sat bolt upright again, a look on his face that said he totally wasn’t buying that reasoning.

“What are you gonna do the whole time, play the penis game by yourself? You’re not allowed to train.”

“You’re actually stupid.”

Robert ran his fingers through his hair. “Alright. Get in the car.”

“YEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSS!”

He watched incredulously as Thomas scrambled up and waltzed out the door, celebrating as if he’d just scored the winning goal in the Champion’s League final. Robert shrugged, picking up the frozen peas that Thomas had left on the floor and tucking them in his training bag.

 

* * *

 

Thomas stuck his face out the window like a dog, singing _Stern des Südens_ very loudly and hooting and hollering until Robert rolled it back up, wishing that there was a child safety feature for the passenger seat, too. Victory was still scripted in Thomas’ every fibre as Robert pulled into the parking lot.

“I really love you.”

“Yes.”

“As I friend, I mean.”

“Yes.”

“I _like_ like Manu, but I like you. You get me?”

“Totally.”

“Do you think he’s gonna be happy to see me?”

“He’ll be thrilled, I’m sure.”

Thomas opened his door and swung his legs outside. He was back at his second favorite place on earth - his first, of course, being Allianz Arena itself. He couldn’t wait to feel dirt under his shoes, to smell the dry winter grass and revel in the crisp, open air on his cheeks again. And he was going to see his brothers again. Though a lot of his teammates had visited him at one point or another during the past two weeks, there was nothing like being united under one common desire - to win. This was where he belonged.

 

* * *

 

Admittedly, things were different. It felt weird to be wearing a winter coat and jeans while everyone else was in their training kits. It felt even weirder to have people actually listen to him for once instead of just nodding and pretending to listen. But the weirdest thing of all was having to stand on the sideline and watch while everyone else was hard at work.

Thomas adjusted his sling and tapped his foot. He found a stick and poked his bandages with it. He pulled his beanie farther over his ears then turned to the goal which Manuel was currently guarding.

Manuel hadn’t come to visit him again. In fact, he hadn’t spoken to Manuel since he’d been in the emergency room. Manuel hadn’t even asked him how he was doing, something he’d been asked a thousand times by a thousand different people, but it would’ve meant the world to him had Manuel asked that same question.

The players were coming off the field for water and Thomas nearly jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“You look upset.”

It was Philipp. Philipp played it off casually - he was good at that, and that’s what made him a good captain.

“I wanna leave,” Thomas replied rather childishly.

“Why?” Phillip prompted, most likely already knowing the answer. He began to drink as Thomas answered.

“Because I thought it would be good to get out of the house since I’ve been stuffed up in there for so long but I just feel like crap - I still can’t play a match for another two months,” Thomas rambled, shuffling back and forth impatiently.

Philipp stopped drinking and gave Thomas’ arm a little pat. “Why don’t you get a ball and kick around with Mario? He’s been complaining about his thigh for twenty minutes now so I told him to just get off the field and not to come back.”

“Of course you did,” Thomas said, laughing a little bit.

“Keep your chin up,” Philipp said before throwing his water aside and jogging back onto the field. Thomas wished he would’ve stayed longer, but out of everyone he knew, his captain was the _least_ likely to put up with his nonsense for more than three minutes.

 

* * *

 

“No offense, but that was shit,” Thomas informed Robert on the way back.

“Sorry to hear that,” Robert replied.

“Can you drop me off at the stable?”

“Sure. Listen, are you okay? Like, actually?” Robert pulled up at red light and turned to look at Thomas.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just in constant pain and can’t use a quarter of my limbs and I can’t do anything but mope around and my best friend is ignoring me. Oh, and I’m unemployed for two more months. All I ever do is screw everything up, this is all my own fault,” Thomas said bitterly.

Robert didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say to make Thomas feel better anymore, and he most certainly couldn’t reassure him about the current state of his and Manuel’s relationship simply because he could never tell what was on the blond man’s mind. Hopefully spending a little time with the horses would ease some of Thomas’ stress.

When they arrived at the table, Robert got out of the car with Thomas. He leaned against the hood of his vehicle and folded his arms.

“So, if you want,” he started, and waited until Thomas was listening to continue. “I’ll get some of the guys and we can go out for dinner after the match on Saturday?”

“I’m not going to the match,” Thomas said flatly.

“Come on, Thomas … this is probably why Manuel isn’t speaking to you, because he went out and visited you in the emergency room when you were a disgusting bloody mess and you can’t even bring yourself to support your teammates. Yeah, it’s understandable that you won’t show up to _everything_ but we’ve already had three matches and you haven’t showed up to a single one. He probably thinks you don’t care about him.”

“Okay, I’m _sorry_. This is the first time I’ve been injured this badly and it wasn’t even from playing football, I don’t know what to make of it, and I’m sorry that I’m so selfish and haven’t been to a match when I can’t play. Give me a break. Now can you just leave me here to feel sorry for myself?” Thomas grouched, throwing out his good arm in frustration.

“You can’t just sit around pity yourself for the next two months! Do it for yourself, if not for me,” Robert pleaded.

“Alright, fine.”

“Come here.”

Thomas took a few seconds to budge, but eventually did so willingly, and he let Robert hug him.

“I’m not gonna break,” Thomas said in response to the fact that Robert was being extra careful not to touch his broken arm.

“Right, because you already did,” Robert joked, and Thomas tried to punch him in response but the older man just held Thomas’ bony self tighter. Thomas had always been a good hugger, that was for sure.

“Hey, thanks,” Thomas said over Robert’s shoulder.

Robert let go and scratched Thomas’ hair. “So you’re in for Saturday?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Thomas gave in, trying to bat Robert’s hands away from his head because it was already scruffy enough, thank you very much.

“Good. I’m glad. Now go milk your horses or whatever you do and call me when you need to be picked up -”

“I can get home by myself. And you’re actually a moron.”

Robert flashed an innocent grin, getting back in the car as quickly as he could because he knew how defensive his housemate could get about those stupid horses. “Take care, Mülli.”

Thomas shook his head, smiling as he watched Robert drive away.

He really was a good friend.

 

* * *

 

It was easy to relax around the horses. Thomas was letting his favorite one, Dave, eat out of his palm. He trusted the large black animal enough to not nibble one of his fingers off, but he held his hand out the way he had been showed anyway.

When Dave was done eating, Thomas stroked the short, fuzzy hair on his nose. The horse let out satisfied whinny and Thomas smiled.

“I gotta go now,” Thomas said. He felt stupid for talking to an animal which quite obviously couldn’t understand German, but Dave always seemed to get him anyhow.

He gave Dave one last pat and then got up, bracing himself against the cold. He considered calling Robert, then figured that taking the bus wouldn’t kill him. If he had on enough clothes, there was a chance he wouldn’t be recognized, even in Munich and even with his arm infamously in a sling.

Fortunately, Thomas was able to make it onto the bus without anyone asking for a picture. He looked out the window at the darkening streets and thought about his current situation and what Robert had said.

Okay, so maybe he _was_ being a bit of an overdramatic dick about this whole thing. It certainly wasn’t the end of the world. He felt considerably more upbeat after having finally dragged himself out of the house and was looking forward to Saturday, partially because of the appeal of hanging out with his friends and partially because of the appeal of being mildly intoxicated.

 

* * *

 

Saturday was a good day for Thomas.

Bayern won (of course) and Robert scored a hattrick. Thomas joined in all the team celebrations in the locker room after the game and successfully hid a whopping four pairs of underwear in totally unreasonable places while their owners were in the shower. He would then pout and point to his arm pathetically every time someone tried to get mad at him about it.

“I’m crippled,” he would reason in as lame a voice as he could.

“Yeah, in the head,” Arjen grumbled, making sure he couldn’t be heard because no matter what a nuisance Thomas could be, he really was nice to the little ones and Kai couldn’t get enough of him and his silly antics.

Thomas ate way more than he should have at the team dinner, his excuse being that he had another two months to get back into shape. When it came time for beer, Thomas also went a little overboard, which is a likely explanation for why he ended up texting Manuel:

Let’s sext ♥

“Thomas,” Manuel greeted Thomas as soon as Thomas had answered his call, having relocated himself to the privacy of the bathroom because he really wasn't _that_ drunk. “Are you drunk?”

“No?”

“You can tell me the truth. I’m asking because I seriously can’t tell if you’re drunk or if you’re just being your normal self,” Manuel elaborated.

“I just want your dick,” Thomas said, and he may or may not have been drunk bawling just a little bit at this point.

Manuel sighed heavily.

“You’re _so_ mean, I broke my arm and you haven’t even checked on me to see if I’m okay!”

“I know. I’ll make up for it. But right now I’m coming to get you, okay?”

 

* * *

 

“You’re insane, I hope you’re aware of that,” Manuel stated as soon as he had loaded Thomas into his car.

“You’re a dick,” Thomas whined. He had scooted all the way forward in his seat, and his knees were curled up into his chest while his feet rested on the dashboard.

“I’m confused. I thought you wanted mine,” Manuel replied with a smirk, earning himself an angry and loud ‘SHUT UP’ from Thomas. “Alright, alright, fine. Put your feet down though so I can drive.”

Thomas scowled and folded his arms tightly, but kicked his feet back down and didn’t say anything else.

So Manuel drove in the opposite direction of Thomas’ house with the vague idea in his mind that it might’ve been calming for his friend in the same way that driving around soothes a restless baby. And while it would’ve taken well over the twenty minutes that Manuel spent driving for Thomas to sober up, the fact remained that Thomas was also a bit of an actor (meaning, he pretended to be more drunk than he actually was) and would likely stop being so theatrical when he realized that he no longer had an audience.

Thomas, on the other hand, knew that he was being utterly childish, and it wasn’t getting him anywhere.

“So,” Manuel said after a while. The silence was getting to be a bit uncomfortable. “What’s new?”

“I miss you.”

Manuel lapsed in his response. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it certainly hadn’t been something as honest as _that_.

“Can you just bring me home?” Thomas asked, void of all emotion. He was just tired. Tired of having everyone else driving him around all the time, tired of being helpless, and tired of asking for favors. He felt useless.

“I’m not going to do that before we have a proper talk,” Manuel said softly.

That was Manuel. Quiet and seemingly agreeable, but still somehow possessing a fierceness that always resulted in him getting his way.

He rested a large hand on Thomas’ stringy thigh and that seemed to do the trick because Thomas caved.

“Pull over,” he ordered, and as soon Manuel did, unclicked his seatbelt and leaned awkwardly over the console to kiss the blond man.

It was needy and imperfect and it caught him off guard, but Manuel found himself enjoying it not long after. Manuel curled his hand around Thomas’ neck to hold him in place, closed his eyes, and lost himself. The both of them were shaven and smooth, and the ability to slide across each other’s cheeks made it that much better.

When it was over, Manuel kept his hand in place. Thomas rested his forehead against Manuel’s, breathing hard against his sensitive lips.

 

* * *

 

Manuel brought Thomas home that night. Robert wasn’t back yet, so he stayed.

“I don’t know why I didn’t call you or anything. I guess I just thought you wouldn’t want me to. Like … when I visited you in the hospital, I felt like I was invading your privacy and … I don’t know. It’s all bullshit and excuses and I’m sorry.”

Thomas nodded. He understood. Manuel was shy, the polar opposite of himself, and sometimes he just didn’t _get_ Thomas like Thomas didn’t get him.

“I was scared,” Manuel admitted.

Thomas frowned. That he didn’t understand. “Of what?”

Manuel lifted his leg, folding it over his knee. They were sitting at the kitchen table, Thomas hunched over and slurping noisily on a bowl of cereal and an untouched glass of milk sitting before Manuel. He pursed his lips because Thomas never failed to make him want to laugh, even when they were supposed to be serious.

He answered just as Thomas was jabbing the spoon into his mouth. “Of doing the wrong thing. Because you weren’t happy when I visited you the first time around. I never know what to do.”

Thomas wanted to roll his eyes. “Oh my god. You’re an _idiot_. Of course I wasn’t happy, I was drugged up and disgusting and had literally just snapped a bone in half. It wasn’t you. Don’t take it so personally. Please.”

Manuel shook his head, smiling a little bit out of regret. Of course he’d been stupid.

“You can make up for it though,” Thomas added, his spoon freezing halfway up to his mouth and his eyes wide. “Just tuck me into bed tonight and reschedule our date.”

“Tuck you i - Thomas, you’re twenty-six. _Twenty-six._ ”

“Please?”

“Ah. Fine.”

He got up, pulling out Thomas’ chair easily and scooping him up. Thomas dropped his spoon, sending Cheerios splashing down his shirt as he tried to wrestle with Manuel, but it was no use considering both his immobile arm and his weight relative to Manuel’s strength.

“This is _embarrassing_ ,” Thomas moaned. “Don’t do this in front of anyone. Like, ever.”

“You have more Cheerios than brain cells on yourself right now. Your opinion is irrelevant,” Manuel replied offhandedly.

Thomas stuck out his tongue, trying to glare up at Manuel, but it was hard to be mad when Manuel looked so gleeful, his lips quirked up in a wide smile and the corners of his eyes crinkled.

Thomas always thought he looked beautiful, but he looked especially beautiful when he was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! And pls comment. I know this one was a lil angsty so I'll make up for it. Next chapter is their date (and Thomas won't ruin it this time) soooo ;) ;)
> 
> To McKinley: I really hope you're enjoying this. I'm keeping you in mind as I write and I hope that it's showing. If there is anything you want to see in the next chapter, let me know. I have a good idea of what's gonna happen but it can't hurt to add more :)
> 
> P.S. Happy New Year, friends!! May we all be blessed with health, happiness, and lots of German bromance because of Euro 2016 :D


	3. Three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A struggle and a half later, the date happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo I'm not 100% happy with this final chapter, but I ended up going on a last minute trip to Orlando ~~to stalk Schalke~~ and that put things on delay for a bit, so I just wanted to get this up. So here it is and I hope you enjoy it some :)

“You smell. Go take a bath.”

“Good morning to you too, asshole,” Thomas said to Robert, who was frying eggs on the stove, making sure to bump into him hard as he skulked past.

“Seriously, bro. If you’re going on a date tonight, you should take a bath,” Robert said thoughtfully.

Thomas whipped around, placing his hands firmly on his hips and arranging a scowl firmly on his face. “Do you know how hard it is to take a bath with a plastic grocery bag tied over your arm? Hm, thought so.” He sneered before huffing and continuing on his way.

“Bro. You don’t have a cast anymore. You can take a bath.”

“Yeah, dumbass, but I can’t just take a bath and get all the scum off at once. It’s called _gradual assimilation_ ,” Thomas retorted, and he was yelling because he was now in the other room and wanted to be certain that Robert heard him.

“Um. _What?_ How does that mean you can’t take a bath?”

“It takes time to -”

“Actually, you know what, I don’t even want to hear your bizarre reasoning for this one,” Robert decided as he expertly turned the eggs back over and shut off the burner.

Thomas had returned. He reached for the pepper, sprinkling it all over one of the eggs as a way of claiming it. “Thought so.”

Robert made a face, and Thomas returned it.

“Remind me again why I thought it was a good idea to live with you,” Robert muttered, giving Thomas’ egg the stink eye.

“Admit it, you can’t get enough of me.” Thomas smirked, nudging Robert’s hip. “And don’t burn my egg,” he added as an afterthought before disappearing once more.

 

* * *

 

Five hours later and Robert really couldn’t explain the chain of events that had led up to this, but Thomas Müller was in the bathtub and Robert was kneeling on a towel, washing the former’s hair.

“I cannot believe this. I just can’t believe it,” Robert babbled for about the millionth time.

“Stop worrying about it, man. No one has to find out,” Thomas said, leaning back. “And it’s not like this is weird or anything.”

Robert’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

“We live together. It’s not like I haven’t walked in on you having a wank, or -”

“Thomas, if you really don’t think this is weird, then let me tell you something: _This is weird._ ”

“Why are you doing it, then? Hm?” Thomas challenged, attempting to twist around to wiggle his eyebrow at Robert. Robert pushed him back to where he was before with a roll of the eyes.

“Because you’re my friend, and you haven’t regained full mobility in your arm yet, and I want your date to be successful,” Robert said.

“Aww, _shucks_ ,” Thomas cooed.

“Plus, you know, I really appreciate the fact that you’re wearing swim trunks because I’m not interested in staring at your junk as I rub your scalp.”

“I thought that was an unspoken condition, Robert. I mean, I do have _some_ humility, believe it or not.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it.”

“Lower expectations lead to greater happiness.”

“That’s right,” Robert agreed. He pulled the plug and motioned for Thomas to get out, which he did, before tossing a towel at him. “I do have boundaries though, and drying you off crosses that boundary because you are my housemate, not my pet.”

“Alright. But hey man, thanks. For, you know. Bathing me.”

“Welcome. And good luck tonight. And I mean that because you _need_ it, bro.”

Based on what had happened the last time he’d had a date scheduled with Manuel, Thomas didn’t dare argue back as Robert left the bathroom, mumbling something that sounded an awful lot like the lord’s name.

 

* * *

 

“I’m nervous.”

Thomas almost couldn’t believe his own confession. He was Thomas Müller, and Thomas Müller didn’t get nervous. But yet, here he was, standing out on his front porch with Robert by his side as he waited for Manuel to pull up (the goalkeeper had adamantly insisted on picking him up this time even though Thomas argued that he was capable of getting himself around), and his palms were sweating and his heart was hammering against his ribcage and he could feel blood pounding in his ears and heating up his cheeks relentlessly. When he tried to swallow, he found the simple reflex difficult to perform. His mouth was just too dry, and he kept licking his lips to try and make up for it.

Robert reached up and squeezed his shoulder. “I know you are, but try not to psych yourself out too much or you might pass out in front of him.”

“Thank you. That’s very helpful.”

“You’ll feel better when he gets here. Anticipation is always the worst.”

Thomas nodded, but moving his head that much just made him dizzy, so he resorted to standing there, still and silent and everything that Thomas Müller isn’t.

“I’m gonna head back in now. It won’t look good if he gets here and I’m standing out here like your personal body guard,” Robert said after a while.

“You’re right. Bye.”

“Gee, thanks. Love you too,” Robert pretended to be offended, but he was smiling and shaking his head at his housemate as he reentered the house.

And Thomas was left alone, waiting for his date.

He shuffled back and forth, wishing he could go back in time several hours. Looking forward to something was often more fulfilling than having it actually happen, and now that this was actually happening, he longed for the weeks and days leading up to it when he’d had nothing to worry about and had felt nothing but excitement.

But that’s how life works. You look forward to something, and then it happens, and then it’s over and you have to find something else to look forward to in order to not drive yourself crazy.

Luckily, Thomas had lots in life to look forward to. He was happy, and he never failed to recognize how fortunate he was for that. So he lifted his chin up, stuck his thumbs in his pockets, and held his chest high. It was going to be a great night, and who knew what was to come after?

 

* * *

 

Out of all the restaurants in Munich which they could have selected for their pre-ice skating dinner, Manuel suggested Pho, which was a lethal combination of noodles that were impossible to get around your fork and broth that was impossible to not splatter all over yourself as you attempted to somehow get the noodles into your mouth. Thomas wanted to facepalm himself - no doubt was he going to make a complete and utter fool out of himself.

He reminded himself of the fact that Manuel had likely witnessed much more disturbing manners (or lack thereof) from him and had nonetheless agreed to go on a date not once, but twice.

They were in the car, and Manuel was driving, and Thomas was staring blankly out the window just thinking about how good he had it. He had no broken bones, a godsend of a housemate, and the most handsome date in the world.

“What’s on your mind over there?” Manuel asked after Thomas had been uncharacteristically silent for quite a while.

Thomas’ lips slid into an easy grin. “Oh, nothing. Just the usual. Football. Horses. You.”

Manuel flushed.

Thomas took the opportunity while Manuel was focused on the road to get a good look at his date. He really was handsome, with full lips and round cheeks and that innocuously intent gaze of his. And that was only the beginning of what Thomas liked about Manuel. Thomas brought his hand up to his neck and felt his own Adam’s apple shift dramatically as he shivered pleasantly at the thoughts - that strong, full body on top of his, those thick thighs straddling his …

The blond man stretched his arm over the console and placed his hand on Thomas’ knobbly knee, and it would’ve been quite romantic had Thomas not startled and knocked his shin against the glove compartment.

“OW!”

“You good?” Manuel grimaced.

“Yes,” Thomas grunted, rubbing his leg. He was aware that so far, he had not made a very good impression on the man he was trying to impress.

Manuel exhaled slowly as he rotated the steering wheel, bringing them into the parking lot of the shopping center that contained the restaurant. Thomas looked at him suspiciously; he was rubbing his lips together and the corners of his mouth were trembling.

“Are you laughing at me?”

And it seemed as though Manuel took that as an invitation to burst out laughing as soon as the car was stopped. He screwed his eyes shut and laughed openly, his face all scrunched up. Thomas would’ve been defensive in any other circumstance, but this was Manuel and it was rare that he unguarded any emotion that strayed from his typical strong and silent character. Seeing Manuel like this reminded Thomas why they got along so well in the first place and why Thomas held such an affinity towards him.

“Alright, fine, it’s not like I’m not used to it…” Thomas shrugged, but a great big grin was plastered to his face as well. He had already succeeded if he had made Manuel happy.

Manuel wiped his eyes as he reached for the door handle. “You’re literally the most ridiculous person I’ve ever met. Let’s go,” he said, still choking back laughter.

Thomas checked himself in the mirror before he got out. He flattened his mousy hair, puckered his lips, and smoothed out his eyebrows. Then he ran his hands down his shirt as a last ditch attempt to rid himself of any wrinkles before he strode behind Manuel into the restaurant.

 

* * *

  

Thomas’ heart was still beating unnaturally fast as they stood waiting to be seated. He was worried that if Manuel got too close, he would be able to tell.

“Are you okay?” Manuel asked, looking at Thomas worriedly.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I’m fine,” Thomas insisted, but he was getting a little dizzy and couldn’t wait to sit down. He must’ve started swaying around a bit because Manuel grabbed his elbow firmly and led him to their table. Thomas couldn’t find it in himself to protest.

“Thomas,” Manuel sighed as soon as he’d sat down across from him. “You’ve known me for years. You don’t need to be nervous.”

Thomas tapped his feet. “But -”

“But?” A sly, half-smirk had appeared on Manuel’s lips.

“Butiwannaimpressyou.”

“Pardon?”

“Okay. I kinda just wanted to, you know. Impress you,” Thomas mumbled. He wrung his hands together, staring at them uncomfortably. This was embarrassing.

“Thomas. Look at me.”

Thomas looked up, locking eyes with Manuel.

“You don’t need to impress me. I like you for who you are and always have.”

“Really?” Thomas blinked stupidly.

“Of course.”

Thomas saw Manuel swallow and wait for his reaction. He knew that the blond man was being sincere, and he didn’t quite know what to make of it. Finally, Manuel reached out and tapped Thomas’ nose with his finger, causing Thomas to let out a giggle.

The soup arrived.

“Bon appetit,” Manuel said, reaching for the hot sauce.

Thomas inspected his soup. He poked at a noodle with his chopstick and then stirred it around a bit. Yep, this was going to be a challenge.

He leaned forward, hunching over the bowl and slurped up as much of the stuff as he could. He heard Manuel, who was still adding sprouts and squirting lime over his own noodles, snort affectionately.

“You’re so cute,” Manuel said. Then he nudged Thomas’ shin with his foot, causing the latter to spill broth all down his front.

“Damn you,” Thomas murmured as he wiped his chin with the back of his hand.

Over at the next table, some kid was making the cuckoo sign. Manuel turned briefly and narrowed his eyes.

“Kids these days. They just don’t know their manners…”

Thomas shook his head in agreement. As a result, the teetering forkful of noodles he’d been trying to get into his mouth ended up slipping off his fork and splattering onto the table.

“God damn,” said Thomas.

Manuel handed him a napkin. Thomas took it graciously.

 

* * *

 

“Tie mine,” Thomas demanded of Manuel, who had just finished lacing up his ice skates. They were sitting on a bench and the lanky German was slumped back, making no effort whatsoever to situate himself for ice skating.

“Please?” he added with a pout.

Manuel patted his leg, and Thomas lifted his foot to place across Manuel’s lap. He was extremely cautious not to stab Manuel in the balls with the blade.

“Thank you,” Thomas said with an innocent grin as he switched feet.

“You’re such a muffin,” Manuel said under his breath, drawing Thomas into his chest once both of Thomas’ feet were booted and once again on the ground.

“What?” Thomas looked up, perplexed.

“Nothing.”

Manuel kissed the confusion off of Thomas’ lips, then the tip of his nose and finally his hairline. Thomas almost purred with satisfaction; Manuel’s arms were so warm, his lips so soft against Thomas’ chapped skin. The last thing he wanted to do was venture out onto the ice rink and brave the cold. He just wanted to sit here all night, wrapped in the safety and comfort of his best friend.

“Ready?” Manuel said after a while.

“No,” Thomas yawned.

“Well, too bad,” Manuel informed him, and then he disentangled himself from his lover’s spindly limbs and got up.

“Boo,” groaned Thomas. The chilly air was already hitting him hard.

“It’ll be fun,” Manuel promised.

“Says the person who’s gonna fall flat on his ass the second we get out there.”

“Honestly, Thomas, what planet do you live on?”

Thomas hoisted himself up, wobbling a bit on his blades as he fell into step with Manuel. “The alternate universe where _you’re_ the one making a fool out of yourself for a change.”

“Oh, shush. You’ll be fine. Shall we get you one of those buckets that the little ones use so you can push it in front of you to balance yourself?”

“How about we get one to put over your big fat head so I don’t have to -”

“How about we both just shut up and enjoy each other’s company for three seconds without you yakking away?”

Thomas wrinkled his forehead in deep thought as he contemplated not saying everything that came to his mind for once in his life. “You know what, that’s actually a good idea.”

“I get those occasionally,” Manuel said modestly. He reached for Thomas’ hand, grabbing it and pulling him out onto the ice with a lurch. Thomas’ eyes went wide.

“I love you!” he wailed as soon as the blond had begun to tug his along. “Oh my god, oh my god, ohhh my god, holy _shit_ , oh, my, oh…”

“Thomas.”

“Sorry!”

Thomas zipped his lips shut and threw away the key with his free hand.

Manuel bit his lip. “I love you, too, by the way.”

 

* * *

 

A good twenty-five minutes had gone by, and Thomas had lost track of how many times they had glided in a circle around the perimeter of the rink. His nose was red and frostbitten and his feet were starting to ache, but at the same time, he didn’t want to stop in fear that Manuel would let go. Thomas felt like he’d rocket straight off the face of the earth if Manuel let go right now.

It happened suddenly, when Thomas wasn’t paying attention. He was making a turn, and somehow, his blade got caught on a rough chunk of ice. There was a loud clunk and the next thing he knew, he was on his back. A searing pain shot through his elbow.

Manuel swerved around in a panic, nearly toppling over right after his date.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine,” Thomas said as he scrambled up. He didn’t sound very convinced, though, and the way his face contorted in pain didn’t contribute much to the cause.

“Are...are you sure?”

Thomas shook his head. It was all he could manage because he was too busy amending his old definition of _pull a Thomas Müller_.

 

* * *

 

“You scared the shit out of me.”

“Trust me, I scared the shit out of me too.”

They were sitting at a table at the cafe with a plate of nachos, Thomas nursing his elbow even though it had stopped hurting before they even made it off the rink, and Manuel dusting the snow and ice off his friend’s knees.

“You can’t break any more bones, okay?” Manuel was serious.

“I wasn’t exactly aiming to, but sure.”

Manuel leaned forward. “You’ve got cheese on your chops,” he said, wiping it off with his thumb at the same time Thomas tried to reach it with his tongue.

“Well, I doubt that it’s actual cheese,” Thomas clarified. “But thanks.”

Manuel grinned. His finger still rested on Thomas’ lip, and Thomas took the opportunity to flick his tongue out and wet it. Manuel swatted him lightly.

“Stop! We’re in public.”

“Let’s go home then. I’m cold. Can I have your scarf?”

Manuel rolled his eyes, but he yanked the scarf off his neck and tossed it around Thomas’ as if he’d just been waiting for the cue. “There. All cozy?”

“Well, I could do with something else wrapped around me too,” Thomas said, a devilish glint making its way to his eyes.

“You are fifteen years old,” Manuel concluded.

Thomas couldn’t argue back as he had just stuffed another handful of nachos into his mouth, sending crumbs flying everywhere.

 

* * *

 

To: Lewy  
I won’t be home tonight. Just letting you know so you wouldn’t worry. Love ya xox

From: Lewy  
Oh lord. I’m glad it went well. Make him put on a condom

He was glad he had remembered to send the text _before_ he made it inside Manuel’s house because he certainly had no intention of getting up to do it now. He didn’t even mind being little spoon. And, okay, maybe it went beyond not minding when Manuel rubbed his shoulders and ran his fingers through his short hair and kissed his neck.

All in all, he could call the night a success. Not only had he managed to stay away from the emergency room, but he could confirm what he knew all along as well. That he had a home, here in Munich with his team and with his horses and, especially, with the man he could truly say that he loved.

Manuel let out a little snore, making Thomas aware that the night had been over for a long time now.

And he knew that he still had plenty to look forward to.


End file.
